Symphony Distorted
by eight percent
Summary: Short Benson / Barba piece. 'Without music, life would be a mistake.' Nietzsche
1. Chapter 1

Symphony Distorted

At times Olivia Benson felt that her life consisted of nothing more than a series of battles, some small and others huge, the most recent being her removal from SVU. She'd come through this latest fight largely unscathed, with both herself and Tucker being cleared of any wrongdoing and reinstated to their respective positions, but there had been one unexpected casualty: her friendship with ADA Barba. The last time she'd spoken to him as a friend, and not as a Lieutenant seeking guidance on a case, they'd had words - and not the good kind. When she'd disclosed her relationship with Ed Tucker Barba's reaction had been pretty much what she'd been anticipating: disbelief, disappointment and then anger. Worse than that, he'd then passed that information on, causing both her and Tucker to be removed from the investigation into a sex trafficking ring. She'd been angry about that even though she knew that it wasn't personal, that he'd done it because he'd had to. His job - his integrity and the integrity of his office - was important to him. At least, that's what she'd believed until some information had been passed her way earlier in the day that suggested otherwise. It was the same news that had her making the journey to his office. Knocking twice on the door she opened it without waiting for an invitation, finding him seated behind his desk. "Hey," she greeted, making sure to close the door behind her.

Barba, his suit jacket and vest abandoned and tie loosened, a state of undress that wasn't unusual for him when he wasn't in the public eye, glanced up briefly at her before returning his attention to the file splayed out on his desk. "Please don't tell me there's another problem with the witness."

Ignoring his statement entirely, she walked further in to the room, coming to a stop in front of his desk, the ornate piece of furniture and a chair acting as a buffer between them. This was the second case they'd worked together since her reinstatement and Barba had been nothing but professional, even telling her he was pleased that she was back with SVU; she'd expected nothing less from him but it meant that she'd had to follow suit when, really, she was still harbouring a grudge about his part in her removal from her unit. They'd fallen out a few times recently but usually all that had been required was a little bit of time. This should have been no different and she had been thinking about offering an olive branch when she'd learnt of his intentions. "I've just heard that you've requested a transfer," she said accusingly.

He sighed, dropping his pen and sitting back in his chair, his gaze finally meeting hers, "That's right."

When she'd stormed over here, having stewed over the news all afternoon, she hadn't been sure what his response would be. But she had been hoping for a denial, for him to say that it had just been some misunderstanding, that he wouldn't just up and leave without telling her. Previous experience meant that she really should have known better and his calm, almost nonchalant, confirmation caused all the anger she'd been trying to tamp down to erupt. If she'd paused for thought she might have reconsidered saying something that sounded so hypocritical given that she'd stood in this very office not so long and disclosed her relationship with Ed only because circumstances had forced her to. But she barrelled on instead, "You weren't going to tell me?"

"I thought I'd wait until I absolutely had to."

Sometimes she hated it when he raised a point that she was quite happy to ignore. This was no exception but she supposed that she might just deserve the biting remark. It was only in that moment that she considered the situation from his point of view; he'd thought that they were friends too and was probably just as angry with her for not confiding in him. She'd probably doubled that anger by putting him in a tight spot when she'd let him tell her all about the investigation into Tucker. Maybe he was a better friend to her than she was to him but that was a confession she wasn't prepared to make. Gripping tightly on to the back of the chair in front of her she made an effort to tamp down the anger still swirling through her veins, "Is that what this is all about? Just because I didn't tell you about Tucker?"

"Not everything's about you, Liv," he replied but his tone wasn't as cutting as it had been just moments before.

"Then what is this about?" Exasperation had now replaced anger, mostly because her ego had just taken a hit, but her hands still clung on to the chair, her knuckles white.

There was a slight shrug before he answered and coupled with the fact that he seemed to take a long moment to consider his reply when he had remained calm throughout made her think that his response wasn't entirely truthful, "I never intended to stay this long. It feels like the right time to move on."

She remembered the brash, confident and ambitious Rafael Barba she'd met all those years ago and, back then at least, she wouldn't have been surprised if he'd used SVU - and its high profile cases - as a stepping stone to something bigger and better. But he'd stuck around, had started to fight for their victims as much as for glory in the court room, and had even listened when she'd shared her years of experience with special victims. Any political ambitions he may have held had been damaged by taking on cases they couldn't win, institutions they couldn't change and the higher ups who held too much sway. The last year alone had ticked all those boxes and she knew he'd taken as much heat, if not more, as she had in the process. Maybe he was just cutting his losses while the going was relatively good. If that was the case then he deserved to hear something that she should have said earlier in the conversation - and perhaps even before then. Releasing her hold on the chair she took a seat on it instead, shaking off the last remnants of her anger.

"I should have stopped you from telling me about the investigation into Tucker," she began, holding up a hand to silence him when it looked like Barba was about to interrupt. "And I probably should have told you about my relationship with him before then but…" Her train of thought went crashing into the barriers at that point. The truth was she'd have been happy never disclosing at all. Half of NYPD hated Tucker and she hadn't been looking forward to the response, especially from Barba. Deep down, she'd always acknowledged that the whole thing was slightly absurd; for years she hadn't been able to utter Tucker's name without a growl or stop a scowl from appearing on her face when he turned up to put SVU through the wringer once again. But Ed had mellowed over the last couple of years and it'd felt good to be appreciated as a woman and not just a cop or a friend or even a Mom. He had cared, too; after the incident at the townhouse he'd checked in on her, had made sure that she was okay, had comforted and encouraged her in a way that hadn't felt like pity. And she'd needed that.

A flicker of something crossed his face but it was gone before she could identify it. "It was none of my business," Barba said, finishing the sentence for her.

She stilled, unable to confirm or deny what he'd assumed. In a way he was right but she'd told him so many things about herself that it shouldn't have been such a big deal. Maybe the real reason she'd been reluctant to disclose had more to do with her lack of commitment to the relationship than anything else. As hard as she tried, she couldn't picture a happy ending with Ed. It wasn't that she expected the relationship to fail at some point, though she did have previous for that, it was just that every time she thought about her future there was an entirely different man in it - and he was about to leave her.

Her initial assessment of Rafael Barba had gone deeper - or shallower, she supposed - than just his character; she'd thought he was attractive from the start but she'd been with Brian and, to be honest, Barba had argued enough with her to take the sheen straight off. That hadn't lasted though and, for a while, after Brian had long gone, she'd thought that something just might happen with Barba. But, as close as they were, which was apparently close enough for other people to comment upon, he didn't seem to see her as anything more than a friend. She'd come to accept that because she valued their friendship and she liked working with him but, even now, a part of her still wanted more. When Ed had shown an interest she'd figured it was a chance for her to move on once and for all. It wasn't working as well as she'd hoped and now that everybody knew about their relationship the thrill of sneaking around, of secret meet ups, had gone too. She didn't know what lay ahead for them but she did know which man she'd rather have in her life. "Don't go."

It was there again, that flicker of an emotion running across his face. "I can't stay," he said, his tone was gentle but final.

The determination on his face confirmed that was it: the conversation was over - most likely their friendship too. He'd finish their current case, would likely remain professional to the very end, but then he'd be gone and she'd never see him again. "Okay," she whispered as she stood. She wasn't going to beg. She wasn't even going to be truthful. The only thing she was going to do was go home, kiss her son goodnight, sink slowly into a bottle of wine and ignore whatever Ed had to say about it.

* * *

A/N I bashed this out in a couple of hours and it probably shows. Sorry. I usually don't finish anything I start - never mind publish - but, believe it or not, this was kind of therapeutic for me. Not so long ago I'd have hated this happening but now I really want Barba to go. If he does leave then I can stop watching the show because he's the only reason I'm sticking with it through all this Benson/Tucker nonsense. Benson's made some questionable decisions over the years but Tucker? He might not seem like such a jerk these days but he's still a scrawny old dude who smokes and then litters. Ugh. It wouldn't be so bad if it was all happening 'off-screen' but it feels like he's being rammed, quite unnecessarily, into everything.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N For Jo, who expressed an interest in reading Barba's POV. More angst? No problem… But now I've made myself sad again.

Symphony Distorted

Flipping over to the next page, Rafael Barba continued scanning through the statement one more time. Their star witness was also their biggest liability but that wasn't what bothered him about this case; it was the possibility that it would be the last one he'd ever work with Manhattan SVU that was fuelling his unease. It hadn't been an easy decision but after weeks of agonising he'd finally reached a verdict: it was time to move on. In all honesty, it had never been his intention to stay this long; a year, two at the most, had been his original plan but he'd quickly got sidetracked and his goals gradually altered. He could pinpoint exactly when that had begun: the day Harris had introduced him to Olivia Benson. Within minutes of meeting her she'd stood in his office, amongst the boxes and general disarray, and questioned his ability to both take on the case and win. He'd known exactly what she was doing but he'd liked her for laying out her cards so quickly. Naturally, he'd risen to the challenge and having triumphed in court had glanced her way to gauge her reaction. He hadn't expected to find her awestruck at his brilliance - though that would have been acceptable - but neither had he expected the small smile and nod of her head that he had received in response to mean almost as much as winning had. He'd known then that he was going to enjoy working with her and he hadn't been wrong; they'd had their ups and downs over the years but that had always held true. Until now.

The sound of somebody knocking on the door to his office, swiftly followed by it opening, distracted him from his paperwork. The quick, "Hey," that preceded the door being shut once again ruined his concentration completely.

A quick glance upward confirmed what he already knew: Liv was his visitor and this wouldn't be a social call. The last time they'd spoken in his office it had ended with her being removed from SVU and though she'd since been reinstated their friendship wasn't quite back on the same terms. He knew that she felt betrayed by his exposure of her relationship with Tucker but she'd left him with no other choice. Thanks to his propensity for taking on cases that he couldn't win, a drift she'd helped steer, he'd been walking a very fine line for the last few months; ignoring the fact that she was sleeping with a man who was a potential suspect in the case her squad was investigating wasn't something he would be able to just smooth over with the DA. And he could imagine all too well how it would have sounded if it had come out in court. Since that night they hadn't really talked about what had happened; he hadn't been able to discuss anything with her at the time and afterwards, when the dust had finally settled and she was back in charge of SVU, he hadn't really wanted to. He turned his gaze back to the file on his desk, keeping his tone neutral and the conversation professional, "Please don't tell me there's another problem with the witness."

In his peripheral vision he watched her approach and years of experience, of careful study and appreciation, led him to believe that she was annoyed. "I've just heard that you've requested a transfer."

The tone of her voice confirmed his theory about her mood and her words told him the reason why. He wasn't sure how she'd found out about his request but he wasn't completely surprised either. She'd once found him in a quiet bar he liked to frequent and had thought was a well kept secret; when he'd questioned how she'd managed to track him down she'd only championed her detective skills. Sighing at the thought of having this conversation, he dropped his pen onto the desk and sat back in his chair, finally meeting her eyes across the short distance of his desk. "That's right."

"You weren't going to tell me?"

"I thought I'd wait until I absolutely had to," he retorted. It riled him a little that she was angry about that, of all things, when she hadn't exactly been forthcoming with him not so long ago. But he regretted his words anyway; he hadn't kept quiet out of pettiness or revenge. And he wouldn't have left it until the last minute to tell her either.

Her hands gripped on to the seat with more force as she hit back, "Is that what this is all about? Just because I didn't tell you about Tucker?"

"Not everything's about you, Liv," he defended but she'd hit closer to home than he was willing to admit. When he'd realised that she wasn't just defending a fellow officer, that she was actually defending the man she was sleeping with, he'd been so angry with her. It had hurt that she hadn't felt she could confide in him, that she could only acknowledge the truth when she absolutely had to, but not as much as the realisation that she'd played him, just like he'd watched her play dozens of suspects, and had used his ignorance about her relationship with Tucker to get him to reveal details about the accusations against the IAB Captain. Even when he'd thrown both of those things back at her she still hadn't been able to admit that she was involved with Tucker - or that she'd done anything wrong by not informing him. All the trust they'd built up over the years, the same trust she'd wanted him to have in her even as she'd been unwilling to trust him with the truth about Tucker, had seemed to crumble away in that moment and it had taken everything he'd had to end the conversation before saying something he'd only come to regret.

"Then what is this about?" she asked, sounding more exasperated than angry but he noted that her hands were still gripping the chair.

This was why he hadn't wanted to tell her that he was leaving: she'd want to know why and every time he'd prepped his answer it just hadn't sounded very convincing. He was sure that they could rebuild their friendship; they'd disagreed before - more often lately - but had always managed to reconcile their differences eventually. He just wasn't sure that he wanted to this time. For almost a year now his feelings for Liv had strayed beyond just friendship; he'd never done anything about the former because he'd valued the latter too much. Besides, he'd been fairly certain that he wasn't the type of guy she went for and news of her involvement with Tucker seemed to confirm this. So he'd compromised, had settled for just being her friend. It had been enough - just about - until she'd thrown it all back in his face by deceiving him. He was beginning to think that, just like his feelings for her, he'd wanted her friendship more than she had ever wanted his. He shrugged slightly before finally answering, hoping that she'd just accept what he was offering and not push any further, "I never intended to stay this long. It feels like the right time to move on."

Letting go of the chair she moved to sit on it, apparently intent on not letting the conversation end so easily. "I should have stopped you from telling me about the investigation into Tucker," she started, her voice calmer than before. When he moved to interject she held up a hand to stop him and carried on, "And I probably should have told you about my relationship with him before then but…"

"It was none of my business," he supplied when it became apparent that she wasn't going to say the actual words herself. When she didn't correct him he realised that he'd been right: she didn't think of him as a friend at all. He should have seen it sooner; over the years, he'd gone from calling her - and thinking of her as - 'Detective' to 'Liv', with a short detour via 'Olivia', but he'd always been just 'Barba' to her. If he stayed he probably always would be; not quite a friend but maybe a little more than a colleague. Worse than that, if he stayed he'd have to watch her share her life with another man and he wouldn't be able to bear that. Maybe the truth was that he wasn't such a good friend either if he couldn't bring himself to be happy for her.

"Don't go."

There was something in her voice that made him pause and second guess every word of their conversation. He ran through it a couple of times in his head, searching for a syllable or a gesture that he'd missed, but came up empty. If she wanted him to stay it was in his role as ADA and nothing more. At least he could console himself with the thought that he'd never acted on his feelings for her; the outright rejection would have been much worse than this. At least he could walk away with his pride intact. But whilst he should have felt relieved by that he was struggling to find any positives; there was only a sense of loss for something, and someone, he'd never really had. "I can't stay."

She stood, one word that seemed to confirm he was doing the right thing tumbling quietly from her mouth, "Okay."


End file.
